


Tesuji

by manic_intent



Series: Akai Ito [2]
Category: Ghost of Tsushima (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Continuation of that soulmate AU, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: “Jin!” Yuriko peered into the spare stall in the stables. “There you are. Didn’t you hear everyone calling for you?” Her smile compressed into a neutral line as she noticed Ryuzo beside him. “What are the two of you doing?”Jin got to his feet, trying to remember if he was meant to be elsewhere. Forgetting his responsibilities and running off to play with Ryuzo in the woods was usually the way he got both of them into trouble. As he brushed the straw off his knees to stall for time, Ryuzo said, “Don’t be noisy. They’re sleeping.” He nodded at the ginger mother cat and her squirming kittens in the corner of the stall.
Relationships: Ryuzo/Sakai Jin, Sakai Jin/Ryuzo
Series: Akai Ito [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867426
Comments: 11
Kudos: 144





	Tesuji

**Author's Note:**

> Playing Sekiro sadly did not take my Ghost feels away, oh well. I guess it’s about time for a Jin POV story. You will have to read “The Gods, Laughing” first to understand this story. Some spoilers for Act 1.
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“How is Jin?” Lord Shimura asked after Lord Sakai Kazumasa updated him on the recently resolved banditry issue around Omi Village. 

“Serious and quiet, but compassionate and kind,” Kazumasa said, a proud smile creasing his sober face. “You should visit. Your sister asks after you often.” 

“From a safe distance,” Lord Shimura said, chuckling. They drank sake by a pond in the inner courtyard garden of Castle Shimura, flecked with daubs of red and gold from a nearby tree. He held up a palm as Kazumasa began to protest. “She is my only sibling, but it’s no secret that we rarely saw eye-to-eye on anything, even when we were children. Nahoko thinks I’m hidebound.” 

“Sometimes she has a point,” Kazumasa said. 

Lord Shimura refilled Kazumasa’s cup. “She isn’t here. You don’t have to side with her.” 

“Isn’t it the duty of a man to side with his wife?” 

“Compared to his vassal lord and childhood friend?” 

“Ah, well, I see the vassal lord in question once a month or less, and he isn’t as good at making my life a misery as his sister,” Kazumasa said, toasting Lord Shimura as he sniffed. 

“You’ve always let her walk all over you. When are the two of you going to have more children?”

“Don’t talk like an old man when you’re my age,” Kazumasa complained. “When are _you_ remarrying? If none of the women on the island are acceptable, petition the shōgun to send over some unlucky woman from a good family.” 

“Unlucky?” Lord Shimura mock-glowered at Kazumasa. “This is my sister’s influence. You even sound like her.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” 

“How is that other child? Ryuzo?”

Kazumasa’s amusement faded. “Very much not like Jin. Brash and rude. He’s intelligent, is the only kind thing I can say in his favour.” 

Lord Shimura blinked. “Strong words, to describe a child of four.” 

“You wouldn’t be able to believe the amount of trouble that a child of four could get into. His mother can’t control him. Not that I blame her. She’s never adjusted well to living at Omi Village, and she has a weak constitution.” 

“What about the rest of her family? Invite them to the village.”

“I offered, she declined. I gather she’s ashamed.” 

“Of the boy being fatherless?” Lord Shimura stared at his cup with a frown. “Did you ever learn what that was about?” 

“Nahoko got the story from her eventually. The boy’s father is a wandering trapper. Promised to marry her to get her into his bed, but once she grew heavy with child, he left without a word.” 

Lord Shimura grimaced. “That’s despicable. The world is full of scoundrels who take advantage of the vulnerable.” 

“I offered to find this trapper on her behalf, but she asked me not to.” 

“Understandably.” Lord Shimura looked soberly at the small fish that darted near the surface of the pool. “You fear that Ryuzo will grow to become like his father, a man without honour.” 

“I know he will. He’s nothing like his mother. Timid and shy as she is, she has a gentle soul.” 

“The boy is still that—a boy. People change.” 

“I don’t care what he becomes. Only what effect it might have on Jin.” Kazumasa’s fingers tightened on the cup briefly before he drank.

“What does Nahoko think?” Lord Shimura asked.

“Her? You know her. She’s always inclined to see the best in everyone. Even in an unmanageable little troublemaker. She said that Ryuzo would grow into a fierce and loyal friend, given half the chance.” 

Lord Shimura smiled faintly. “Isn’t it the duty of a man to side with his wife?”

Kazumasa laughed, his ugly mood fading. “I can’t seem to win any sort of duel with you, old friend. With words or with a blade. Yes. I can only hope that she’s right.”

#

“Jin!” Yuriko peered into the spare stall in the stables. “There you are. Didn’t you hear everyone calling for you?” Her smile compressed into a neutral line as she noticed Ryuzo beside him. “What are the two of you doing?”

Jin got to his feet, trying to remember if he was meant to be elsewhere. Forgetting his responsibilities and running off to play with Ryuzo in the woods was usually the way he got both of them into trouble. As he brushed the straw off his knees to stall for time, Ryuzo said, “Don’t be noisy. They’re sleeping.” He nodded at the ginger mother cat and her squirming kittens in the corner of the stall. 

Yuriko softened, beckoning. Jin ducked out of the stall and tensed as Yuriko gestured for Ryuzo to follow as well. They stood together: a boy in a well-made kimono the colour of the morning sun, and another in drab grey clothes muddy at the hems. “Lady Nahoko wants to see you both,” Yuriko said. 

Jin and Ryuzo looked at each other. “Even me?” Ryuzo asked, openly puzzled. “What did I do now?” 

“Nothing, I hope. Come.” Yuriko set off across the grounds toward the main house. Ryuzo frowned, looking over his shoulder at the forest, but before he could decide to run off, Jin grabbed his palm. The fate threads spooled upward from their linked fingers, swallowed up by their sleeves. 

“I don’t think you’re in trouble,” Jin murmured. 

“We don’t know that, and I already caught one scolding from your father today. How was I supposed to know that you now have bokken practice every morning?” 

“He only just decided that last night. It’s my fault. I should’ve told you.”

“How could you have told me overnight without sneaking through the clan house and avoiding all the night patrols?” Ryuzo sniffed. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. He’s just making trouble.” 

“You still think they’re trying to drive you away?” Jin asked, his hand tightening on Ryuzo’s. The very thought of it ached. He loved his parents and respected their wishes, but Ryuzo occupied a space in Jin’s universe that was unique. Even being out of sight of Ryuzo felt like the world around Jin distorting, losing air and colour. His fingers would tingle, trying to reel him down a thread that Jin could only see when they held hands. 

“When have they stopped? Hey.” Ryuzo playfully tapped Jin under his chin as Jin took in a shaky breath. “Don’t start crying, or we’ll definitely be in trouble. Let’s see what your mother wants. Your father probably isn’t here anyway, since he had to ride out earlier on some kind of business.” 

Jin wanted to hold on to Ryuzo’s hand for reassurance, but Ryuzo pulled away from him as they got closer to the main clan house. They found Lady Sakai Nahoko kneeling on the wooden engawa overlooking the back garden with its seasonal wealth of red flowers. She smiled at their approach and patted the cushions beside her. “Sit.” 

Soft furs swallowed Nahoko’s shoulders even in the warmth of the morning, her face drawn and pale from the bout of fever she’d suffered over the last few days. Jin knelt beside his mother, concerned. “Shouldn’t you be resting, mother?” 

“I’m resting my spirit,” Nahoko said, smiling as she gazed at the flowers. “Don’t lecture me.” 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Jin said. Him, lecture his parents? Never. 

“It was a joke, Jin.” Nahoko looked over at Ryuzo, who was surreptitiously brushing the mud off his clothes at the edge of the engawa. “I hoped you’d have taught Jin what a joke was by now, Ryuzo.” 

“He’s a bad student,” Ryuzo said, startled to be so directly addressed. He sat beside Jin, his hands tense in his lap. “You look better, Lady Nahoko,” he ventured to say politely. 

Nahoko looked behind her to check that they were alone. She stroked Jin’s hair with a pale, graceful hand that trembled a little as she raised it to his head. Jin bit his lip before he could suggest yet again that she rest. She smelled of the red flowers she loved, like the first flush of spring. “I wanted to talk to you privately, Ryuzo, but I don’t believe Jin would’ve been willing to stay away.”

Ryuzo didn’t even blink, though his hands flattened over his knees. “What about?” he asked, even as Jin jerked his head up and looked at his mother in dismay and said, “Ryuzo has been with me all morning—”

Nahoko laughed, petting Jin’s head and dropping her palm. “He isn’t in trouble. Ryuzo, are you happy here? Be honest.” 

Ryuzo glanced at Jin, then at Nahoko, then at the garden. He laughed mirthlessly. “Ryuzo,” Jin said, horrified. 

“I’ve been told that you’ve been preparing to leave,” Nahoko said, ignoring Jin as she followed Ryuzo’s stare. “Hiding supplies and such. I don’t need to know whether that is true,” she said as Ryuzo opened his mouth. “There are many things about your life with us here that I regret, that I wish could have been handled differently. However, should it be your wish to leave, I promise you that you will be sent where you like, with funds to spare. You don’t need to hide.” 

“No.” Jin couldn’t choke down the sob that welled out of him even if he tried. His vision wavered as his eyes stung, throwing his arms around Ryuzo and burying his face in Ryuzo’s shoulder. Ryuzo yelped, ineffectively trying to wriggle free. 

“Jin! Calm down. _Jin_.” Ryuzo pushed at awkwardly at Jin’s chest, but Jin shook his head and hugged him more tightly. 

“You’re not even denying it!” Jin wailed, his voice muffled by Ryuzo’s kimono. 

“Quiet. Just be quiet.” Ryuzo shot Nahoko a wary look. “Your mother’s right here. What are you, a little girl? Worse?” 

“Let him cry,” Nahoko said. She looked tired, picking at her sleeve. “Ryuzo, this is a selfish thing for me to say, given my regrets, but. Stay, please. For Jin’s sake. Bear with the bitterness you feel.” 

“You know very well what the problem is,” Ryuzo said, even as he curled his fingers in Jin’s and raised their fate-linked hands free of their sleeves. “If you could break this and match Jin instead to one of the Adachi or Kaneda daughters, you would.” 

“Life would be easier for the both of you, certainly, but those are not the choices we’ve been given,” Nahoko said, smoothing a crease in her kimono. “As such, difficult as it may be, I hope that you could think of Omi Village as your home. I’ve made Kazumasa promise to remember his words to your mother when we met her for the first time: to name you to the Sakai kashindan.” 

“To serve Jin forever?” Ryuzo said, with another ugly laugh. “That’s how you people see the rest of us, isn’t it? Only in terms of our use.” 

“Ryuzo,” Jin said, dizzy. He’d never heard Ryuzo take such a tone with his parents. Worse, he’d never realised Ryuzo had been this unhappy. He should have seen it. Some Fated he was. Jin wanted to say something to fix things, anything, but sobs choked even the trite words he could think of in his throat. 

“The world we live in isn’t fair. I see that,” Nahoko said with a faint, sad smile. “None of us are free, and for some, it is worse than others. We are born into stories that society conspires to write on our behalf, whether we like it or not. For me, the only daughter of Clan Shimura, a life where the only honourable thing I could do was to marry well and bear children for my family’s sake.” 

“Grieve for the lives you could not have in the warm safety of your fine house, deep in your beautiful estates, in your silk clothes,” Ryuzo said, though some of his tension left him as he tentatively patted Jin’s back. 

“I neither asked for nor expected sympathy. I have a better life than most, better than even the other women in my class. I see that. My brother’s status ensures that. What I’m trying to say is, it’s pointless to rage against the things that cannot be changed, in a way that consumes you rather than empowers you.” Nahoko leaned over, stroking Jin’s shoulder. 

“‘Life is unforgiving, so just be happy with your given place’?” Ryuzo said, sceptical. 

“Life is unforgiving, so count your blessings, and try to make it more forgiving for those less fortunate than you are,” Nahoko said. She inclined her head. “As much as I ask you not to leave, I will support you no matter what you choose, Ryuzo. Not just for Jin’s sake.” She got to her feet, swaying a little until she found her balance, shuffling away to the closest door. 

“Enough already,” Ryuzo muttered once they were alone, prodding Jin in the shoulder. “If your father finds us like this, we’ll both get into trouble.”

“I don’t care,” Jin said, sniffling. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ryuzo said with a huff. “I’m still a child. I don’t know my mother’s family, and since they didn’t bother to come and visit, even when she was dying, I don’t think they care about me all that much. I get fed here for free. Why should I leave?” 

“But you don’t like it here.” 

Ryuzo glowered at Jin, annoyed. “That has nothing to do with you. I don’t have anyone but you. I see that, all right? Can we go back to the kittens?” 

“I don’t want you to be unhappy with me.” 

“Jin.” Ryuzo grabbed his hand. “I’ll show you something.” He dragged Jin out of the house, sneaking around retainers and attendants until they were at the small house that Jin’s family had given Ryuzo’s mother for her use. It sat quiet and empty of late. No one dared ask the clan for its use, even though Ryuzo generally slept in the main clan housing at Nahoko’s request after his mother’s death. Ryuzo gestured for Jin to wait, wriggling under the engawa. He emerged with a dusty bundle, kicking off his waraji sandals and going into the house. Jin followed suit more sedately, curious. 

Once inside, Ryuzo shoved the bundle into Jin’s hands. “Here. That’s what I’ve been saving so far. It’s yours. Don’t cry anymore.” 

“What? I can’t take this,” Jin said, surprised. He tried to hand it back to Ryuzo, but Ryuzo walked deeper into the house to sprawl onto the futon, stretching out his arms and legs. Jin followed, kneeling beside him, only to squeak as Ryuzo hauled him down.

“Oof. You’re getting heavier,” Ryuzo said, though he curled his arms around Jin as Jin tried to shift off him. “Maa, what a mess. If only we could get married. That’d make things simpler.”

“You wish I were a girl?” Jin started to sniffle again.

“Stop it. No. Why, do _you_ wish I were a girl?”

“Not at all. I like you the way you are.” Jin snuggled into a better fit against Ryuzo, setting the bag aside. “I’m not going to take your things.” 

“It doesn’t matter. Didn’t you hear your mother? If I want to go, they’ll give me what I need.” 

“You’re still thinking of going?” Jin’s voice wavered. 

“Not right now.”

“But in the future?” 

Ryuzo looked soberly at Jin. “Do you want that? Never having our own lives?”

“Live without you?” Jin said, unable to even imagine it. “I can’t. Ryuzo—” 

“That’s not what I said. Never mind. Don’t cry.” Ryuzo caught Jin’s hand, holding it loosely between them as they breathed together in the quiet.

#

Lord Watanabe exchanged an unreadable glance with Kosei as Jin and Ryuzo arrived for dinner, on-time and appropriately dressed. Lord Watanabe said little, preferring to allow Kosei to speak, sometimes even on his behalf. Strange, given his status as a daimyo lord and Kosei’s as one of the ronin. Maybe he was taciturn in person. The correspondence he sent Lord Shimura was different: detailed and sprawling in context.

“Ryuzo mentioned bandit activity on the coast,” Jin said once dinner was over, and they were having sake. 

Kosei glanced at Ryuzo, who made a face. “In the context of Lord Sakai deciding to ride down here from Castle Shimura without an escort,” Ryuzo said. 

“Did you see any trouble on the roads?” Lord Watanabe asked. 

“No.” Jin hadn’t paid much attention. He’d ridden his horse as hard as he dared, consumed by worries over Ryuzo. The few travellers on the road who saw him looked at his well-bred horse and his weapons and gave him a wide berth.

“No doubt Lord Sakai is capable of taking care of himself,” Lord Watanabe said, raising his cup to his lips. “Though I’d be curious to measure your progress against his, Ryuzo.” 

“Right now? We just ate,” Ryuzo said. 

Lord Watanabe glanced at Jin, who found himself saying, “As you like.” 

“Don’t be such a pushover,” Ryuzo told Jin. “You’re both daimyo lords. Besides, aren’t you effectively the Jitō-in-waiting? You don’t have anything to prove.” 

“Lord Sakai isn’t the Jitō yet,” Lord Watanabe said. He gestured at the garden before the dining room, where the carefully arranged white sand and gravel had been laid out in a landscape of large and small stones around a pond. “Move.” 

“Here? You’ve had too much to drink,” Ryuzo said. 

“Watch your tongue,” Lord Watanabe said, though he didn’t sound annoyed. 

“Kosei, it is the humble opinion of this lowly peasant that Lord Watanabe may have had one too many cups of sake, for the kare-sansui was only raked an hour ago, and the duelling ground is just around the corner,” Ryuzo said. He affected a respectful tone that made Lord Watanabe snort and Kosei smirk. 

“We could move there,” Jin said, not so much out of wanting to support Ryuzo but because the ease between the other three men unsettled him in a way he couldn’t understand. His memories of Ryuzo tended to be strained over and over again through a sieve of conflicting regrets. They’d been close as children, only to grow apart as Jin’s duties immersed him in matters of politics and state, along with the occasional issues from Omi Village. 

“Very well,” Lord Watanabe said, leading the way. 

Jin tossed Ryuzo a bokken from the rack at the duelling ground as Lord Watanabe and Kosei settled on the engawa before it. Ryuzo smiled at him, handsome and wolfish and unrestrained in a way Jin had never seen outside of private moments. Life in Azamo Bay was good for Ryuzo in a way the rest of his life before it hadn’t been. It gladdened and hurt Jin to see it at the same time. He was distracted during the first bout, and Ryuzo frowned at him as they circled, mouthing “Jin?” when his back was turned to Lord Watanabe and Kosei. Jin shook his head, trying to concentrate. 

“Lord Sakai, have you heard of the situation in Yarikawa?” Lord Watanabe said suddenly. 

“What?” Jin asked, his guard faltering, allowing Ryuzo to score a strike on his arm. 

Ryuzo backed off and shot a glare over his back. “I don’t need your help.” 

“It was a legitimate question,” Lord Watanabe said, sipping his sake. “I might only be a minor daimyo lord, but the localised famine in that region is worsening. There have been reports of children being sold off to traffickers for bags of rice.” 

Jin lowered his bokken, horrified. “We should ride out to save them.” 

Kosei laughed, though he went quiet at a cold stare from Lord Watanabe. “Yarikawa is not in my care, nor have I been able to discern where the traffickers are operating from,” said Lord Watanabe. He gestured at the both of them. “Go on.” 

Ryuzo turned around with a scowl. “You annoying old man. Come out here.” 

“Ryuzo!” Jin hissed, pulling at Ryuzo’s sleeve. 

Instead of snapping at Ryuzo, Lord Watanabe merely raised his eyebrows and got to his feet. He glanced at Kosei, who said, “Maa, but I’m tired,” then, “Fine, fine,” when Lord Watanabe nudged him pointedly with a foot. They pulled on their sandals and took bokkens from the rack, facing Jin and Ryuzo. Lord Watanabe stood to the front, Kosei to his left flank and a step behind. 

“Shouldn’t you be protecting your boss?” Ryuzo asked Kosei. 

“You know he’s a better swordsman than me,” Kosei retorted, “and I’m full and sleepy and want to take a nap, which I might be taking right now if you didn’t run your mouth. Again.” 

“Quiet,” said Lord Watanabe. He darted forward with surprising speed at Jin with a flowing, sweeping stance that Jin had seen Lord Shimura perform, graceful and quick. He raised his bokken to counter the first blow, only for Ryuzo to get in the way. Their bokken tangled awkwardly against Lord Watanabe’s in a three-way lock and Kosei lunged, smacking Ryuzo smartly on the ass.

“Hoi!” Ryuzo glared at Kosei. 

“This is bullying,” Kosei told Lord Watanabe, who sniffed and withdrew out of range, adjusting his stance. Kosei stepped into place further from his flank almost instantly, the two of them moving as a seamless, practised unit. 

Ryuzo noticed it too. “Jin, I’m used to fighting that old fox. He tends to leave his left flank open, but with Kosei there it isn’t so simple. Follow my lead and try and separate Kosei from—” He swore as Kosei charged him, aiming a jab at his chest that he spun away from, only for Lord Watanabe to swing down at him with an overhead strike. Jin’s bokken clashed with Lord Watanabe’s even as Kosei whirled and struck at Jin’s unprotected flank. Ryuzo got in the way, parrying, only for Lord Watanabe to shove Jin roughly back and slap the flat of his bokken against Ryuzo’s back. 

“Pay attention,” Lord Watanabe said as Ryuzo glared at him. “Speaking of which, Lord Sakai, should we ignore Yarikawa’s suffering just because its citizens may be unwilling to accept aid?”

“Sending an army in Shimura colours into Yarikawa will only make things worse. That place has been simmering since the rebellion,” Ryuzo shot back before Jin could speak, “and you think the deposed clan is still controlling it from the shadows.” He attacked Kosei with a series of heavy strikes, driving him back, Kosei wincing as Ryuzo broke his guard and aimed his bokken at Kosei’s chest. Lord Watanabe caught the bokken with a hand and pulled, jerking Ryuzo off-balance. As Ryuzo staggered, Lord Watanabe’s bokken tapped against his throat. 

“Pay attention,” Lord Watanabe said.

“ _You_ pay attention,” Ryuzo said, with a nod at Jin, who had his bokken pointed at Lord Watanabe’s eye. 

“Fast,” Lord Watanabe said. He let go of Ryuzo’s bokken and made his way toward the rack, as though having lost interest in the fight. 

“Lord Watanabe,” Jin said earnestly, “raise your concerns with me in detail, and I’ll speak to my uncle about them.”

“He knows about them,” Lord Watanabe said, racking the bokken and catching Kosei’s when tossed over. “That wasn’t the point of this.” Folding his arms behind his back, Lord Watanabe wandered off toward the garden with Kosei on his heels, though Kosei turned back to wink at Ryuzo. 

Jin stared after them in confusion. “What was the point, then?” he asked once he and Ryuzo were alone. 

“That old man is full of irritating lessons, most of which he doesn’t bother to explain,” Ryuzo grumbled, taking Jin’s bokken from him and racking them. “Don’t take anything he says to heart. I’ll show you to the guest room.” 

“Maybe I should ride to Yarikawa and see things for myself,” Jin said, wondering if that was the lesson. 

Ryuzo frowned at him. “No. A Sakai will get into trouble almost as easily as a Shimura, and nobody will talk to you. Don’t listen to him. He’s already doing what he can, anyway. Most of the Straw Hats are concentrated around Yarikawa right now. They’ve broken one operation quietly, but the smugglers got smarter. They’ve begun to target children the villages wouldn’t miss, luring them away with promises of food and shelter.”

“I didn’t see any of this in Lord Watanabe’s recent correspondence with my uncle.” 

“You wouldn’t. Lord Shimura told Lord Watanabe not to interfere in Yarikawa. That if the villages need help, they should petition him directly.” Ryuzo sniffed. “They’d sooner die first. Besides, didn’t you hear him? That wasn’t the point of the lesson.”

“What was, then?” Jin said, thinking it over. Lord Watanabe did not strike him as a frivolous person: he could not have become one of Lord Shimura’s most trusted samurai lords if he were. “Don’t get distracted in a fight?” 

“Who knows.” 

“I didn’t realise he was so close to Kosei,” Jin said as he followed Ryuzo to an upper level. “They fought as though they were a single unit. Protecting each other’s weaknesses.” If only he and Ryuzo—

Ryuzo came to a stop so suddenly that Jin walked into him. As he stumbled, Ryuzo steadied Jin with a hand on his hip, the darkening evening making his face unreadable. Jin blushed as Ryuzo leaned in for a quick kiss. “We’re hardly alone,” Jin whispered, though he pressed forward, already hungry for more. Ryuzo chuckled as he pulled Jin into a room, closing the shoji door behind them as they kissed.

#

Ryuzo kept Lord Watanabe’s study tidy but disused. Feeling as though he were disturbing a shrine, Jin shuffled awkwardly across the room to look through the shelves for the rice manifest that Ryuzo had asked him to search for. Pain pulsed through Jin at every step, but he’d insisted on helping instead of resting. If administration was all Jin could do while he recovered, it wasn’t as though he were a stranger to the work that went into running a holding. Outside, the sounds of all fighting-fit people in Azamo Bay training filtered up from the courtyard, as did the occasional clanging din from the besieging Mongols beyond the walls, trying to unsettle and break their morale.

The shelves held several copies of reports that had once been sent to Lord Shimura: some that Jin had himself read before months ago. A minor dispute between the Yamaguchi and Tanaka clan that threatened to seethe into something worse. A strange sighting in a forest north of Castle Shimura that led to local superstition, marked ‘banditry?’ in Lord Watanabe’s cramped handwriting. Jin carefully put everything back in place and went through the chests, grimacing as he lowered himself onto his knees. 

Something gleamed under the table. A hidden latch? Jin groped under it and flicked it open, and a heavy scroll dropped into his hands, bound with the Watanabe clan emblem. This couldn’t be the rice manifest: it was addressed to the shōgun. Puzzled, Jin undid the binding and opened the scroll. 

Ryuzo found Jin when he was rereading the scroll for the fourth time. “Jin! Did you get distracted? You should’ve located that manifest by now.” 

“Have you seen this?” Jin asked. He got up, wincing and stumbling. Ryuzo caught him and righted him, taking the scroll from his hands. He read through it to the end, blinked, and reread it. 

“That annoying old man,” Ryuzo whispered. He made a shaky, strangled sound and turned away, grinding the heel of his free hand into his eyes. 

“He did want to adopt you,” Jin said. The letter contained a succinct request for approval, along with an extensive accounting of every favour Lord Watanabe was owed in the shōgunate court. “He would’ve burned every bridge he knew to do it.” 

“What does it matter?” Ryuzo roughly wound up the scroll. “He’s dead.” 

Jin took the scroll from Ryuzo. “My uncle can still honour the sentiment. Once we rescue him.” 

“The army camped outside my gate is a little bit of a problem,” Ryuzo pointed out. 

“We’ll get rid of them. Together.” 

Ryuzo shook his head. “Lord Watanabe wanted to use military merits to do this. There has to be a reason for that. Your uncle probably opposed the first attempt.” 

“He wouldn’t have hidden doing something like that from me, and I would’ve dissuaded him.” 

“Wouldn’t he? It doesn’t matter. Where did you find that, anyway?”

“Under the table. Ryuzo, don’t just set this aside.”

“Why?” Ryuzo bit out. “Why would it matter to you whether I stayed a peasant or became a dead lordling’s son?” 

“It doesn’t,” Jin said evenly, “but you’re already his successor in all but name, and I don’t want to see that taken from you unless you choose to relinquish it. I want you to be able to _choose_.” 

Ryuzo blinked at him, clenching and unclenching his hands. “Put it away,” Ryuzo said, turning for the door. “I don’t want to deal with that right now. I have a plan for breaking the encirclement, but in case it fails, I need to be able to figure out how long we can withstand a siege.” 

“A plan? You didn’t mention a plan to me.” 

“Funny as it might be to watch you stagger around the battlefield—”

“When the time comes,” Jin said, grabbing Ryuzo’s arm and setting his jaw, “I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.” As Ryuzo glared at him and began to argue, Jin leaned in to kiss him on the mouth, awkward for a moment until he got his fingers around the back of Ryuzo’s neck. 

“Hmm,” Ryuzo rumbled as he carefully drew Jin into his arms. “You can’t keep using this to win arguments.” 

“It works, doesn’t it?” Jin said, having learned this quickly during the last couple of years. No matter what Ryuzo was angry at, a kiss mellowed him back down. Granted, sometimes it was Jin who forgot why they were arguing in the first place. 

“Hardly an honourable way of resolving a dispute,” Ryuzo said, kissing Jin on the nose. “Going straight for my weaknesses.” 

“A tactical way of resolving a dispute,” Jin corrected, kissing the edge of Ryuzo’s mouth. “Now what is this plan of yours? Surely it’d be a better use of my time than looking for something that isn’t here.” 

Ryuzo gave him a look of amusement. “You figured that out, hm?”

“The scrolls are all arranged by at least three different categories and by binding colour,” Jin said with a nod at the shelves behind him. “Nothing would just go missing. If it’s not on the shelves, it’s not there. Besides, there was nothing on the shelves about supply manifests.” 

“He did like to have everything organised to a fault,” Ryuzo said. He took in a slow breath and let it out, burying his mouth against Jin’s throat. “Maa. If that old fox knew I shed even one tear over his death, he would’ve been so smug. Kosei, too.” 

“We should drink to their memory. After we save their town.” 

“You’re not going to like this plan,” Ryuzo said without moving.

“I guessed as much. There’s no reason for you to confine me to the clan house when I could’ve at least helped train the villagers.” Jin had been tempted to climb out of the nearest window to have a look for himself, but he didn’t want to risk accidentally rolling off a rooftop in his current state. 

“Sit down.” Ryuzo motioned Jin to the table and helped him down. He hunted around the chests until he found a map and a shōgi set, smoothing the map out on the table. “We’re surrounded. Mongol ships are watching the bay. There's one smaller camp here, and the main camp is there.” He put down the foot soldier tiles inside the Bay, the horse and incense chariot shōgi tiles at the camp locations, and a couple of the flying chariot tiles in the water. “General Gansukh is here.” He set down a king general piece at the camp outside the main gate. “I’ve had people observing him for days. He’s popular with his men. If he can be killed, we could push his forces into a rout.” 

“So we challenge him to a duel,” Jin said, studying the set-up. “You have Kojiro and the others. And me.” Jin could muster the resolve to last through a duel if he had to.

“Have you forgotten what happened to Lord Adachi? No. No duels. No more glorious charges, no more Komoda Beaches. Not here, not with my people.” Ryuzo stared evenly at Jin. “This is why I said you’re not going to like my plan.” 

Jin stared back. “I haven’t heard it yet.” 

“General Gansukh is good, but the men the Khan left with him to take Azamo Bay aren’t his elite: those were sent north to hold Castle Kaneda and besiege Castle Shimura. It’s part of the reason we’ve held out here as long as we have with just some surviving Straw Hats and some fishermen. However, they also know that our fighting-fit men are mostly peasants.” 

“How many Straw Hats are fit to fight?” Jin said. 

Ryuzo rolled a foot soldier tile between his fingers. “You can barely walk in a straight line. Half of the Straw Hats are worse off. Thankfully, the ones who are fine include Kojiro and Kanetomo.” He set down a gold general and silver general piece with the foot soldiers. “The Mongols will see them from far away though, and know to pick them off.” 

“So we have everyone dress the same,” Jin guessed.

“Close,” Ryuzo said, leaning in. “What if we could promote all our foot soldiers to tokin? At least in the Mongols’ eyes.” 

“It takes years of training to learn the ways of the sword.”

“I’ve been having fishermen sail over to Komoda Beach during the night for a while, retrieving repairable clan armour from the fallen. Flags and swords, too. We’ve been working to patch them since. Just enough that they don’t look damaged on a passing glance. The town blacksmith complains a lot, but he doesn’t have the time to do much more than that. We have enough now to put every willing man and woman in the village in samurai armour. If we put up enough of a show and attack during the night—” 

Jin sat up, eyes wide. “Ryuzo. It’s a crime to impersonate one of the samurai.” 

“This is why I didn’t want you involved.” Ryuzo folded his arms before his chest. 

“ _However_ ,” Jin said, thinking it through, “I do have the right to temporarily name people to the ranks of my kashindan, who are allowed to wear armour and bear katanas. Given the emergency and the lack of Sakai armour in sufficient quantities, we must make do with what we have. In a respectful way.” 

Ryuzo stared at him in silence. Shaking his head, he began to laugh, looking away. “I’ve been a bad influence on you.” 

“I don’t want to face another Komoda Beach, either. Not with the people we’re meant to be protecting. It’s bad enough that they have to raise arms and fight for themselves. That wasn’t in the social contract they agreed to.” 

“You realise your uncle won’t be happy about this. That’s part of the reason why I didn’t want you involved.” 

“He can be unhappy all he likes when Tsushima is free,” Jin said. He glanced at the tiles. “Do you have a spare set for me?” The Shimura armour he'd worn for Komoda Beach was broken beyond repair.

“Adachi gear. They were close to your clan, and you’re about the same size as her eldest son. You can return it personally to Lady Masako after. I doubt she’d care as long as you kill a few Mongols in her husband’s name.”

“What about you?” 

Ryuzo set the tile he was playing with back on the map. “They found Lord Watanabe and Kosei. I had them bring the bodies back here. That old fox… his armour’s being repaired. It wasn’t too badly damaged.” 

“You deserve to wear it. He would’ve wanted you to.” 

“We’ll see,” Ryuzo said with a wan smile. “If I don’t first get all of us killed.”

#

“What are they waiting for?” Ryuzo asked as he looked at the milling people in samurai armour behind the inner gate. A wall of bamboo and rushes had been constructed further down the village, linking houses together to hide the deception from the ships. “We should be getting into position.”

“A speech, I think,” Jin said, clapping Ryuzo on the back. It was hard not to openly admire Ryuzo in black and gold armour, walking as though it belonged on his shoulders. He wasn’t the only one—he’d seen women and some men sneaking glances at Ryuzo as well. Used as Jin was to seeing that as Ryuzo grew older and more handsome, it still irritated. 

“I hate speeches,” Ryuzo said, though he climbed onto a wagon and reached for Jin. Jin obligingly let Ryuzo pull him on, wincing as it pulled at his still-healing wounds. The crowd looked up expectantly, shushing each other. “So,” Ryuzo said, projecting his voice, “we’re a sorry lot.” 

“Ryuzo!” Jin hissed, even as laughter rippled through the Straw Hats.

“Lord Sakai, the only actual samurai here is you,” Ryuzo said, rapping his knuckles on Jin’s sode, “and this isn’t even yours. _I’m_ a motherless bastard, a potter’s son. The rest of you are farmers, fishers, potters, trappers, merchants. The world isn’t fair. This isn’t right. You didn’t pay all those taxes to this—” Ryuzo slapped his palm over the Watanabe fox crest over his dō, “—only to have to face the Mongols yourselves.” 

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, some people glancing at Jin, who was glad he’d worn his mask. “But the samurai tried,” Ryuzo said, raising his voice over the murmurs. “I was there. I watched them die for your sake. I’m not asking you to take arms for theirs, but as you wear the armour they left behind, I like to think that every one of them has enough unfinished business that they’d help us one more time. Guide hands that weren’t meant to draw a sword. Turn away arrows aimed at people never meant to stand on the front line.

“You’re not where you wanted to be, but you’re all this island has now. So let’s do this,” Ryuzo said, drawing his sword and raising it. “For ourselves, for Tsushima!” 

“For Tsushima!” Jin echoed the roar from the crowd. He smiled proudly as they climbed down, following Ryuzo through the energised crowd to the outer courtyard. “You’re a born leader,” Jin said. 

Ryuzo sniffed, pulling on the Watanabe clan mask: a stylised face-mask of a black fox baring its teeth. “I hate speeches,” he said. “Speeches tend to come from people about to get everyone killed.” 

“It won’t come to that.” Jin grabbed Ryuzo’s hand. Under their sleeves and armour, the threads couldn’t be seen, but he squeezed Ryuzo’s fingers tightly anyway. Jin leaned in, his lips nearly pressed to Ryuzo’s ear. “Ryuzo, I—”

“Ryuzo!” Tomotsugu called from behind them. One of the Straw Hats, now clad in blue and white Clan Kaneda armour. “We’re set up at the other gate. Kojiro says we’re waiting for your signal.” 

Ryuzo pulled gently away from Jin. “What are you doing out of bed and in armour?” Ryuzo asked, eyeing Tomotsugu critically.

“This sounded like fun,” Tomotsugu said, though he looked pale under his helmet, still winded from recovery. He looked at the nervous oxen by the gate, their horns fitted with katanas, flanks covered in makeshift armour bristling with knives. Farmers waited close by with shaved pieces of ginger. “Tch. Waste of a few good oxen.” 

“We’ll get them back,” Ryuzo said, waving Tomotsugu off. “Wait for the signal.” He mounted a horse behind the oxen as Tomotsugu jogged off, the peasants in borrowed armour lining up loosely behind him. Jin got on a horse beside Ryuzo, reaching for battle-calm. “Jin,” Ryuzo said softly, as the gates began to open, “don’t die.” 

“I won’t,” Jin said, reaching over to grasp Ryuzo’s wrist, “and neither will you. Together, nothing will break us.” That had been the lesson that Lord Watanabe had tried to teach.

#

“Jin? Are you all right?” Ryuzo asked as he looked into Jin’s room. “You left the celebration early.”

“Just tired,” Jin lied. 

“That’s why you’re drinking alone in your room?” Ryuzo said as he sat down beside Jin and leant against the wall, grabbing Jin’s gourd from him and taking a long sip. “This is an improvement from before.” 

“Before?”

“You used to run off crying whenever something upset you. Running off to drown your sorrows is the acceptable adult version.” Ryuzo shifted closer, nudging Jin’s arm. “What is it now?” 

“Nothing. We just broke a siege. I’m tired.” Jin looked away. 

“Jin, you have never, ever been able to lie to me,” Ryuzo said, settling his cheek over Jin’s shoulder. “It isn’t only because you’re a bad liar. I just know. Well?” 

“I’m worried about my uncle.”

Ryuzo chuckled. “No, that’s not it.” 

“Leave me alone,” Jin muttered. 

“You know, if you smiled a little,” Ryuzo said, nudging Jin under his chin with his knuckles, “you’d have many pretty young women coming to talk to you too.” He smirked as Jin scowled and batted Ryuzo’s hand away. “There we go.” 

“Ryuzo, during all these years here, did you… No. Don’t answer me.”

Ryuzo assumed an exaggerated, hangdog expression. “Beloved, I don’t like it when other people flirt with you. Have you been cheating on me? Even though the Gods themselves bound us together for our lifetimes, are you sure that you’d never leave me?” 

“Go away.”

“All right, all right. I’ll stop teasing you. Here.” Ryuzo leaned in, but Jin brought up his palm between them. Undeterred, Ryuzo kissed his hand, nuzzling up to the sword-calluses at the base of each finger. “Jin, did you ever want to do more?” 

“Than what?” Jin asked, still annoyed. 

“Than what we already do together.”

Jin stared at Ryuzo, confused. “There’s more?” Before the invasion, Jin tried to visit Ryuzo once a month. There had been several furtive encounters in the supply shed, some in Ryuzo’s room with Ryuzo’s hand clapped over Jin’s mouth and the other working between them, and one memorable incident involving Ryuzo’s mouth by an onsen nearby late at night that had Kosei making snide jokes in the morning. Jin had been mortified.

“I’ve tried it on myself, it works. I could show you.” Ryuzo said, linking their fingers together and kissing Jin’s knuckles teasingly. “That is, if you’ve decided to stop being angry with me, hm?” When Jin only glowered at him, Ryuzo said, “I don’t even see why you’re angry. You’re handsome enough yourself.”

“Hardly,” Jin said. He had a face that was a little too round, ears that were a little too big. 

“Handsome enough for me,” Ryuzo said, catching Jin’s chin and leaning in. Jin allowed him the kiss, the sweetness of it easing away his temper, making him gasp and clutch at Ryuzo’s yukata as he opened his mouth, begging for more. Ryuzo groaned as he manhandled Jin onto the futon, pulling at his clothes. Jin caught Ryuzo’s hands, holding them still between them as they kissed. 

“What were you talking about?” Jin asked, panting. “Trying what?” 

Ryuzo pulled one hand away, reaching into his yukata and showing Jin a small jar. “Know what this is?” 

Jin opened the jar and sniffed it. “No?”

“A seaweed extract. Never mind. I’ll show you.” Ryuzo undid their obi and pulled open their clothes, his hands slowing as he looked over Jin’s injuries. Some healing, some new. He bore a number himself, Jin tracing a new wound above his hip, another high on his chest. Ryuzo caught Jin’s palm, kissing his fingertips, sucking in his index finger playfully and licking the calluses. Jin shivered, squirming under Ryuzo. He sat up, hauling Ryuzo over for a kiss, but Ryuzo nuzzled his cheek, whispering, “Watch.” 

Watch? Jin looked down. Ryuzo slicked his fingers in the odd substance in the jar, reaching between his legs. He stiffened a little as his fingers worked, just as it dawned on Jin exactly what Ryuzo was doing. At his look of shock, Ryuzo snickered. “Never thought about it?”

“No, I wouldn’t… what… would it even fit?” Jin stammered, red to his ears and frozen to the spot. “Or feel good?” 

“Hmm.” Ryuzo arched, working his fingers deeper as his voice grew husky. “I’ve heard so.”

“From who?” 

“Beloved, what sort of company are you keeping? Why do you have secrets from me?” Ryuzo said and laughed as Jin glared at him and bit him on the shoulder. “Ow, ow, ow. Gentle, gentle.” 

Jin kissed the mark his teeth left on Ryuzo’s skin apologetically. “Can I help?” 

“Maybe next time,” Ryuzo said in a strained voice. Jin spat on his palm, tentatively stroking Ryuzo’s cock until it hardened and Ryuzo relaxed, thrusting into Jin’s grip and brushing kisses over his throat. He shivered at one point, biting down on his lower lip with a moan as Jin rubbed his thumb against the underside of his cock. “Enough of that,” Ryuzo panted. “I don’t want to waste my efforts by finishing early.” 

“I still don’t… ha-ahh!” Jin jerked as Ryuzo pressed closer and began to fit Jin’s cock inside his slick, tight heat.

“Shit! Stay still,” Ryuzo snapped, biting Jin hard on the shoulder. Jin whined but obeyed, hands clenching over Ryuzo’s hips as Ryuzo eased himself down, biting out curses with every breath, his face growing more and more strained. The heat and pressure of Ryuzo’s body, of _Ryuzo’s body wrapped around him_ , felt unreal. Jin’s breaths escaped in strangled gasps, dizzy with pleasure, his palms damp as he dug his fingers into Ryuzo’s skin and buried his mouth against Ryuzo’s throat to stifle his cry. 

Ryuzo let out a shaky laugh. “Good?” he asked, his voice ragged. As Jin let out a strangled sob, Ryuzo groaned. “Please. Don’t cry. Not now. Or I swear, I’m going to slap you.”

“I’m not crying,” Jin lied, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just. A little overwhelmed.” 

“That’s one way to put it,” Ryuzo said, breathing through gritted teeth.

“Are you in pain?” Jin looked up anxiously at Ryuzo, who bared his teeth. 

“Apparently, that’s normal.” 

“It is?” Jin said, horrified. “Ryuzo, get off me.” He pushed at Ryuzo’s hips, but Ryuzo growled and stayed seated. 

“No. It’s also meant to get better. I’ve been thinking about doing this with you for a while, so don’t ruin it by crying and panicking.” Ryuzo took in a slow breath and started to laugh. “I should’ve known that this would happen. Jin, you are the worst.”

“Worst? At what?” 

“Just. Breathe. And be quiet.” Ryuzo kissed Jin before he could object, nipping at his lower lip. Stroking himself with his slicked hand, Ryuzo hummed as Jin nudged his palm away and took over, tugging. “Slowly,” Ryuzo said, looking between them. 

“How does it feel?” Jin asked, his voice hitching. This drowning feeling was like the opposite of intoxication, like every pulse of his blood in his body coming alight and growing hot, the world coming startlingly into focus. He kissed a way down Ryuzo’s jaw as Ryuzo laughed, to the bob in his throat, to the sweat in the hollow of his neck. 

“Strange,” Ryuzo said, stroking Jin’s cheek with his free hand. “Full. Not in a bad way. Starting to hurt less. I think—” He hissed as he rocked his hips. Jin yelped, the hand on Ryuzo’s hip clenching tight. “Hmm.” Ryuzo looked amused and did it again, more deliberately. Jin whimpered, trying desperately to keep still. Ryuzo breathed shallowly as he began a clumsy pace, frowning to himself until the tight clench around Jin’s cock began to ease. “Move,” Ryuzo growled, scratching at Jin’s chest. “Carefully.” 

Carefully? Unsure, Jin braced himself with a palm on the tatami and pushed up against Ryuzo, nearly tipping him off. Ryuzo glared at him, then began to laugh, bending for a kiss. Somehow, after a few false starts, they fit into a slow rhythm. The wet sounds in the room were so loud that Jin was sure this would be obvious for anyone on the floor. Just like his moans, like Ryuzo’s gasps and curses as he shifted his knees. As Jin tried rolling his hips, Ryuzo yelped and dug his fingers into Jin’s shoulders. 

“Sorry!” Jin said, freezing. 

“No.” Ryuzo grit out. He laughed, ducking his head, his hips shifting. “Do that again.” 

It took a few attempts before Jin did whatever it was that had Ryuzo’s face go still, that had him moan and shiver and jerk into Jin’s nervous grip around his cock. “Finally,” Ryuzo gasped, grinning, wolfish and joyous. “Hey, Jin. Bear with this for a while, hm?” 

“With…?” Jin cried out as Ryuzo lifted his hips almost to the point of pulling off and drove them back down. His back snapped straight as he groaned in unrestrained pleasure. A metallic taste seeped over Jin’s tongue. He’d bitten through his lip. Focusing on the sting, Jin tried to hold on as Ryuzo rode him, clawing at Ryuzo’s back with his free hand, trying not to even think of the release that scraped desperately at his consciousness as Ryuzo moaned his name into his ear and drove against his thrusts. It was a losing battle, like many where Ryuzo was concerned. Jin buried his shout against Ryuzo’s throat as his hips jerked against Ryuzo’s in desperate thrusts, grinding in his seed. 

Ryuzo let out a surprised noise but stayed still, panting, then chuckling. He wove fingers over the hand Jin had over his cock, squeezing pointedly as the akai ito threads flared up over their arms. They kissed as Jin brought Ryuzo off, with Ryuzo gasping Jin’s name against his lips, with Jin shivering as Ryuzo clenched down tightly over sensitised flesh. 

As they cleaned up and lay together, Jin said, “Next time, we should try that the other way around.” 

Ryuzo’s hand slowed over Jin’s back. “Mm.” 

“It’d only be fair,” Jin said. Besides, Ryuzo looked as though he’d enjoyed it. 

Ryuzo’s hand tickled up into his hair. “How many ‘next times’ do we have?” 

Jin leaned up onto an elbow. “Ryuzo.” 

“Never mind. Get back down here.” Ryuzo tugged at Jin’s arm, but Jin stayed put. 

“I would rather give it all up than lose you,” Jin said, low and even. “My title, my lands, my family name. What’s the point of having all that without you?” 

“Honour,” Ryuzo said, tracing Jin’s cheek to his jaw. “Duty. Sacrifice. That’s the life of a samurai, isn’t it? Don’t talk about giving it all up, Jin. I know you won’t. You might run away from things you don’t like to hear, but you have never run from a fight.”

“If you know that, then you should know that I’ll fight to keep you. To make this work.” Jin grasped Ryuzo’s palm, raising their linked hands to his lips. “The Gods already placed their bets on our odds. This isn’t a curse, isn’t a joke. It’s a promise.” 

Ryuzo pulled their hands close, kissing them in turn. He closed his eyes. “Get some sleep.”

#

“We can’t just hold Azamo Bay,” Ryuzo said as they surveyed the map laid out over supply bales in the duelling ground. “We aren’t self-sufficient, not even normally. We need to retake the farms and the other fishing settlements nearby.” Shōgi tiles covered the map, marking out all the known Mongol territories. “We should start with the logging base to the northwest. From there, we can stage a strike on Aoi Village.”

“Or we could clear out the crossroads to the northeast and check on the Salt Winds estate,” Jin said, pointing. “Should any of Clan Tanaka retainers have survived, we could rally them for a push north. If we can take over the Kuta River bridge—”

“Still focused on reaching Castle Kaneda?” Ryuzo said. “With everyone poised to bite us in the ass?”

Jin grimaced at Ryuzo’s crude tone. “Survivors have gathered at the Golden Temple, and they’ve asked for help.” 

“The Golden Temple would give us a central staging base for Ariake,” Ryuzo conceded, “but—”

“They’re fine for now,” Kojiro interrupted, studying the map. “As is Lord Shimura. If they haven’t yet staked out his head in front of Castle Kaneda, they’re keeping him alive for a reason.” 

Jin stiffened, even as Ryuzo glowered at Kojiro. Kojiro returned his stare coldly. “We don’t have an army,” Kojiro said. “We have a rabble of farmers and injured ronin. We should retake the Azamo region and occupy the bridges. Even that will stretch out our supply lines.”

“Is that what Kosei would do?” Ryuzo asked. 

“Kosei?” Kojiro scoffed. “Kosei would have looked at Lord Watanabe the way you’re looking at Lord Sakai, and bowed to his every whim. That’s why he’s dead.” 

Jin caught Ryuzo’s shoulder as Ryuzo took a menacing step forward. “We can’t hold out even Azamo forever,” Jin said, measuring his words. “We routed the Mongols at Azamo Bay because they weren’t the Khan’s elites. Neither are the others in this area. We need to push back their lines. Rescue our people.”

“Then what?” Kojiro countered. “Gather more peasants to your flag? The trick Ryuzo pulled here won’t work again a second time. Taking back each Mongol outpost will require an army we don’t have.”

“It won’t,” Jin said, studying the map. “It’ll take Ryuzo and me. The head of a spear. We hit these outposts as hard as we can and have people poised to resettle them, using the Mongols’ fortifications to hold out against further attacks.” 

Kojiro gave Ryuzo an incredulous look. “This is your plan? Just the two of you?” 

“Don’t think you and Kanetomo and the others are getting out of working,” Ryuzo said, though he gave Jin a hard glance. 

Kojiro’s lip curled. “Ryuzo, you haven’t given us any reason to doubt your leadership yet. This plan, though? It’s suicide. Think for yourself. Samurai like Lord Sakai here are only good at getting the rest of us killed.” 

“Take a walk, Kojiro,” Ruyzo said flatly. He waited until Kojiro stalked off before saying, “You could’ve warned me that you were going to say that.” 

“He’s right. The Straw Hats are still recovering, and we can’t ask the others for more than what they’ve already given.” A number of the Azamo Bay survivors and refugees had signed up for further training, but most of them had been just relieved to be able to peel the armour off their shoulders. Jin couldn’t blame them. This shouldn’t have been their fight. 

“This is the worst possible plan so far,” Ryuzo said, though he chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m seriously considering it. Maybe you’re the bad influence.” 

“I’ll show you. We’ll take back this crossing ourselves. It’s doable. Judging from the reports, the Mongols didn’t leave that many people to hold each outpost. They’re stretched thin trying to hold the region _and_ patrol the roads.” Jin took Ryuzo’s palm and pressed it over the shōgi tile to the northeast. “We—”

Someone cleared her throat. Jin jerked his hand back, looking up at a young woman with a bow at her back and a knife at her hip, her hair bound back by a headband. She smiled warily at them both. “Lord Sakai and Lord Ryuzo? May I have a moment of your time?”

“I’m not a lord,” Ryuzo said, looking her over. “You’re Yuna, aren’t you? The thief.” 

“A thief?” Jin said. 

“We can argue about who or what I am all day, or we can talk about what we can do for each other,” Yuna said, unrepentant. She nodded at the map. “Also, I fought in your fake samurai army. Ask the others if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t need to. I saw you. You’re a fair shot with that bow,” Ryuzo said, though he didn’t look any less wary. “What do you want?” 

“My brother and the other blacksmiths in Izuhara are being held at Komatsu Forge as slaves,” Yuna said, tapping the tile over the Forge. “Making weapons and armour and more for the Mongols. I want to free him before the Mongols work him to death. Presumably, you two fine lords would prefer your army to be supplied with gear instead of the Mongols.” 

“We don’t have an army,” Jin said, even as Ryuzo said, “I said I’m not a lord.” 

Yuna looked between them. “Whatever it is,” she said diplomatically, “I’ve been scouting the area and I think I know a way in. I’ll bring you there and support you in a fight. If we can do it quietly, so the Mongols don’t murder their captives.” 

“Quietly?” Jin asked. Yuna looked meaningfully at Ryuzo, who exhaled and looked aside. 

“I’ll handle it with Kojiro,” Ryuzo said. 

“You’ve often said that you were only ever willing to trust him as far as you could see him. No. We do this together,” Jin said firmly. “We’ve already come this far. Kojiro can handle the logging camp. The forge is in the northwest too.” 

“I’ll look for you when we’re ready,” Ryuzo told Yuna, who inclined her head and left. Once alone again, Ryuzo said, “She meant assassination, Jin. And before you ask, it’s true that the Mongols tend to murder their captives once they spot a rescue attempt.” 

“Assassination is dishonourable,” Jin said, shocked. 

“So is doing something that you know will have ugly consequences for other people,” Ryuzo grit out. “This isn’t the kind of war you prepared for all your life, Jin. I wish it were.” 

“No one wishes for war. Or for the deaths of others in our care. My honour won’t count for much if it leads to that.” Jin stared hard at the tiles, swallowing his unease. “I… If you’re going, so am I.” 

“You have more to lose than I do.” 

“Some things are worth losing,” Jin said. Ryuzo gave him a long, considering look that made Jin’s ears grow hot. “What?” 

“Hmm. I wonder if we have the time to sneak off for a bit.” 

“For… again?” Jin said, as Ryuzo’s meaning hit him. “But, only this morning, we already…” 

“Maa, the more you blush and act like that, the more I want to make it worse,” Ryuzo said, grinning as he pulled Jin into his arms. 

“Can you even ride a horse later when we have to leave with Yuna?” Jin hissed, turning his cheek as Ryuzo leaned in for a kiss.

“It’s going to be a trial,” Ryuzo conceded with a grimace, having limped around in the morning with a strained expression. “But it was worth it. Besides, I wasn’t talking about doing that again, fun as it was. We don’t have the time for that much.” 

“We should call Kojiro back and discuss a revised plan of attack—“ Jin’s words stifled into a groan as Ryuzo kissed him, ignoring Jin’s push at his shoulders until Jin leant into him with a sigh. They kissed until Jin no longer cared that they were in public, that the nagging unease he felt over what they were about to do began to fade. The Gods hadn’t just bound them together, they’d woven their futures together as well. Jin had always been content with that. He’d been waiting for Ryuzo to feel the same. 

“We’ll be quick,” Ryuzo said, with none but Jin in his hungry stare, smiling for an audience of one.

“Fine,” Jin said, taking Ryuzo’s hand. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @manic_intent  
> my writing process, prompt policy, original stuff: manicintent.carrd.co  
> —  
> Refs and Notes:  
> Was discussing The Gods, Laughing with @beingevil and noted that the game that it outlined would be likely more of a Total War-esque / Warcraft game, where you start with newbie units and work your way up tactically. Less of a fun game for me to play, since I’m not a strategy person, but maybe one with a better outcome for Jin and Ryuzo, so. Fic was written. 
> 
> https://www.gamespot.com/articles/ghost-of-tsushima-sound-team-breaks-down-the-games/1100-6480186/ looking around for what the shoes were called, indeed waraji.


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